The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix - Part Two

LVII: June, 1994

"That filthy murder-pigeon is going to be beheaded by the Ministry for Magic for all the damages it's done to my arm, my father saw to that!" 

It was the 6th of June and the pale face of Draco Malfoy was haughty as he leaned back on the bench. He looked positively jovial as he spoke, and had the full attention of the entire Slytherin table as he spoke, loudly enough for his voice to carry across the Potions dungeons to where Harry Potter and Ron Weasley sat, working on their potion.

Hermione Granger, at the table ahead of them next to Neville Longbottom, was seething, her fist balled and laying on the counter of the desk, glowering across the room. Draco caught her eyes and grinned, his expression cold as he sang out, "I swear, sometimes when it's stormy weather, my arm still smarts something terrible! I'll feel much better about the safety of everyone at the school once the foul creature is properly disposed of."

"Ooohh, I'd like to properly dispose of you!" she hissed under her breath.

"Blimey," Ron muttered, looking at Harry, "'Mione really's got it in for Malfoy over this whole Buckbeak thing, eh?"

"Yeah," said Harry darkly, glaring at Malfoy, too. He frowned, then turned back to Ron. "There has to be something we can do to help Buckbeak and Hagrid." Harry sighed heavily, and turned back to his potions book, racking his brain to think of something - anything. They'd combed every book in the library, read loads and loads of boring old transcripts from court proceedings in similar cases, and nothing even remotely had helped them in forming a case for Buckbeak. If only they'd done better sooner, Harry thought, instead of larking about as they'd been doing half the year, spending all that time angry with Hermione... 

He felt like he was letting down Hagrid - Hagrid, the person who had, in Harry's mind at least, been the one to save him from the Dursleys. Hagrid who had been the first person that really gave a damn about him, Harry, ever in his entire life...

On Thursday, he was scheduled to have his final Patronus class with Professor Lupin. The patronus charm was just another example of how Harry felt like he was failing someone he really wanted to please. Although Professor Lupin insisted that Harry was doing "really very good" at his work in producing a patronus - and insisted that Harry had actually done it at least twice - Harry felt like he was doing a shoddy job because he still paused to hear his parents' voices every time that boggart dementor came up out of the box that the Professor kept him in between classes.

Harry dragged his feet on the carpet on his way along the corridor to the classroom where he was to meet the Professor, and paused when he heard footsteps coming down the hall behind him. He turned and saw none other than Professor Lupin himself trailing behind him, carrying the boggart's box, muttering to himself and shaking his head, clearly deep in thought.

Suddenly Lupin looked up and saw Harry there in the corridor, close enough that a couple more steps would have had him tripping over the boy, and Lupin flushed. "Good evening, Harry," he said a bit awkwardly.

"Good evening, Professor," Harry greeted him.

They fell into step together as they walked the remainder of the way down the hall to the classroom and Professor Lupin waved his wand to open the door, Harry stepping in ahead of him. Harry sighed and sat down, staring at his trainers.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Professor Lupin asked. 

Harry looked up. "Yeah, I'm alright."

"Are you sure? You look very down. You have all week, actually. I was going to talk to you after class on Tuesday, but I got distracted and didn't get a chance. I apologize."